Unspoken In Glimpses
by FatedFeathers
Summary: Bonus chapters and content for Unspoken; outtakes by prompt or request. Various pairings and ratings-overall rating is M to be on the safe side.
1. A Father's Pride

_Disclaimer: Twilight and it's characters belong to Stephenie Meyer._

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><p><strong>Outtake One<strong>

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><p><strong>Scene: <strong>Charlie and Renée have a chat with Jacob about their daughter, Bella; about discretion and that little thing called L- teenage hormones.

**Requested by:** **wordslinger**. _I hope the fly on the wall enjoys the show. _;)

Also, thanks to **MeraNaamJoker** and **Cretin** for proofreading. Much love. (Note to self: don't post when tired. You are scatter-brained enough as it is. Note to betas: sorry for forgetting to thank you guys. Note to everyone else: apologies if you received double alerts thanks to my dizziness.)

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><p><em><strong>A Father's Pride<strong>_

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><p><strong>o*~oiOio~*o<strong>

Charlie Swan is a simple man. He doesn't want for much, nor does he ask much, either. Give him a project, a cup of coffee and a cigar and he is happy as a pig in mud. His needs are always met, and only a few of those lie in the hands of another human being: his wife, Renée. She is the love of his life, the mother of his firstborn daughter, Bella, who is the very reason he is not in bed right now, getting some well-needed (and deserved) 'shut-eye.' It's a _codeword_. One of many. Those are needed for all manner of things and situations in this house.

Such is life in the Swan household.

This evening, however, takes him a little outside his comfort zone. One of their foster kids, Jacob, who in Charlie's mind is (despite the hardships written plainly on his face) a surprisingly level headed boy, has earned himself more attention from Bella as of late.

Charlie already knows what moves inside the head of a teenage boy. Christ, he was one himself once upon a time. He _still_ is one, though he'd never admit it out loud. Renée knows just how to get to him, too . . .

A little more than the usual moves inside Jacob's head, however, and while Charlie prides himself with being a pretty damn good people-reader, he isn't too sure how to feel about the vibes he picks up on as far as Jacob is concerned.

He trusts his daughter implicitly; the girl has never given him reason not to do so.

Charlie has only cried a handful of times in his adult life. Once at fifteen, when he stole his brother's ice hockey stick and karma socked him in the face and knocked out all his front teeth. Another time when he passed his driver's test (a man needs his car, after all), but the one most worth mentioning is the day his daughter was born.

He was so frightened he could have crapped his pants, but he ended up hiding tears from a hormonal wife instead. What did he know about girls? Sure. He knew how to flirt with them, how to say the right things to make them smile shyly and turn their cheeks pink. But actually raising one to protect from guys such as himself?

It was definitely something worth crying about.

And now one of them has his sights set on said daughter in need of mentioned protection, and while he knows what he _wants_ to do, he can't. Firstly, it's the principle of the damn thing: one simply doesn't pick up children and throw them out the door. Not in this day and age at any rate. Secondly, said daughter's smile is one of the best things he knows and – damn it to hell – the child, who's making him want to toss him out the door, produces _masses_ of those smiles. Thirdly, and it's the ball-breaker (literally): his wife would disown him.

It is enough to make a man want to cry. Again.

"The way you're acting, one would think you're the one about to be cornered by _the _girl's parents." Renée's tone is as teasing as her smile, and it is a little soothing, but when she says '_the_ girl' his mind halts.

Charlie's brow furrows. "_The_ girl? So it's not only me," he wonders. Renée handles the emotional parts much better than he, and he won't ever even pretend to know the things she knows. He is quite happy to let them all come to her when they need advice for – certain things.

He can teach them how to fix cars and build anything that will stick together with nails, but while he knows things, he has trouble putting it into words. It's just not his area of expertise.

His wife lets one shapely brow arch (it's identical to his daughter's, and they both do it to him frequently. It's a little scary), and assumes, "Are you going to make me do all the talking again?"

He hums before he extends it into a "Maybe," and then shrinks back, awaiting the would-be incoming swat. As calculated, Renée only purses her lips with a twitch of humor.

"Charlie," is all she says, knowingly, and he gives her a sheepish grin.

"All right, all right. I can compromise. You take the arms, I take the legs, and if anyone asks, we know nothing."

She rolls her eyes. "You men are _such_ animals," she scolds, but her eyes crinkle and he, as he so often does, knows why she is his wife and that all's well in the world. Just as it should be. "Let's do this, before either of our teenagers has a complete meltdown."

This puts everything into perspective. These _meltdowns,_ as she calls them, are a sordid business, and while he is confident Jacob can handle himself, he definitely doesn't want his little girl – in parts or whole – melting. Even if it's only one of those expressions women use that means more than he can ever wrap his head around.

"Meltdowns, huh? Yep. Let's avoid that," he offers to her back as she walks out of their bedroom. All major decisions and discussions are dealt with here. It's the headquarters and the only place in the house with a door that's feared by all. The blonde tot, Jesse, being the only exception. (Although his daughter knocks on it frequently. Luckily not at an inopportune time thus far.)

**o*~oiOio~*o**

Jacob leans on his desk when they come into the room, and Charlie knows his stand-offish posture very well. He knows that it's a front for all the things the boy constantly hides. _I see you, buddy, _he thinks.

Renée is fairly good at reading him, too, but she has her own way of dealing with it. As such, she goes to lean next to him. "If it helps, I know a few tricks to bring the man down," she jokingly says, giving Jacob's shoulder a light bump. "If need be."

Charlie is immensely pleased when Jacob rolls his eyes at his wife. "I let her," Charlie informs him to preserve his dignity. "It's the oldest trick in the book. Let a woman _think _she's in control when, really, you're the one holding the ball."

Renée looks at her husband and gives him that secretive smile he still, after all this time with her, hasn't figured out; it's meaning alludes him. "Of course," is all she says.

Not one word leaves Jacob's mouth, though he appears to be somewhat less tense.

"So you sorted things out with Hannah, did you?" Charlie asks and Renée gives him a startled look. He winces a little. This is why he lets his wife do the talking. He's (according to her) too direct when a more delicate approach is required. He guesses this is one of those moments when his straightforwardness isn't the best. _Oopsidaisies._

"Yes, sir," Jacob replies regardless.

Charlie nods, satisfied with this answer. "And what about this Steven Kirkland fella? You had a run-in with him last week – what's the deal with that?" Renée wants him to be quiet, but _he_ wants a few straight answers; now that he already has opened his mouth, he might as well get a few things off his chest.

"I did," Jacob confirms. "The guy's a jerk, but he hasn't caused any more trouble."

"Uh-huh." Charlie is grateful, he really is. However, he only partially understands Jacob's reasoning behind sticking up for Bella. The boy has built walls around himself that would put a medieval fortress to shame. While it's obvious he doesn't want anyone to penetrate those walls, Charlie is more concerned about the _other_ purpose of the barriers: keeping things locked up.

Something else doesn't slip by Charlie, and that is how very little escapes Jacob; the boy knows very well Charlie sees all he needs to see. Which is why he averts his eyes when Charlie drops the question he's been wanting to ask him for days. "Well, I appreciate you looking out for my little girl, Jacob, but I'm getting the picture there's more to it than just an act of compassion. So, what's going on with that?"

Renée shoots him a look that says he's in trouble, and he knows he is being very blunt, but if he wants a straightforward answer, he needs to ask uncomplicated questions. That being said, he tries with tact, as a little thoughtfulness is needed when dealing with their foster kids. He feels it's important, however, to treat them all equally, which means no tiptoeing around issues unless absolutely necessary.

Like being careful with blood and raised voices where Jesse's concerned.

When Jacob remains quiet, and Charlie takes a good look at him, it's clear he has cornered the boy too much. The wary guard that closes his face is firmly in place, and while he expects any boy would flee or bite back in a moment like this, and at the first window of opportunity, Jacob doesn't.

"I just want honesty, Jake. I'm not passing any judgments, all right?"

Renée gives Jacob's knee a light pat. "It's okay, honey. We just want what's best for you – _all _of you kids – but we need to know how you feel. Nobody can _tell_ you that. You need to speak up, sweetie."

Charlie narrows his eyes, and then realizes that Renée picked up on something he, once again, overlooked while focusing on formulating his question.

Jacob turns to Charlie. "I'd never do anything to hurt this family," he says in a tone that speaks volumes. But it's the sincerity in his eyes and face that relaxes Charlie's shoulders. "And I'd never disrespect your daughter, Charlie."

It's not the words, but the way he says it and how it's spoken with a great deal of effort put behind it that confirms what Charlie has already concluded. "I will hold you to that," he replies without breaking eye contact. Jacob doesn't even blink, but gives him a nod.

"You boys – should I clear out before you start circling the boxing ring, or what?"

With a huff, Charlie defends with, "Hey – this is how we _men_ deal with things, all right?" He catches the smallest movement on Jacob's face and knows everything is good. "However-" Boundaries need to be stipulated, and fully intent on the boy, he warns, "If I catch you sneaking into Bella's room, you'll be answering to me. Are we clear on that?"

"Charlie!" Renée stares at him disbelievingly while Jacob turns to study the trash can next to his desk, hiding his face as he pretends to rearrange his hair.

"Got it," he mumbles, his voice cracking with mortification.

Charlie lets out a gruff noise of affirmation. That one just slipped out, and he, himself, is a little embarrassed now at the subject he just opened. Not that he isn't perfectly aware of one very blatantly obvious fact: Jacob has had a girlfriend, and has been sexually active. He _knows_ his daughter _hasn't _or _isn't, _and if he has any say in the matter, she will stay that way: unmarried and without kids until she is at _least_ thirty.

He isn't an unreasonable man, so this can be negotiated, but those are _his _wants, damn it.

While a father wants to protect his daughter's virtue, a mother wants to back up a daughter's ability to be the judge of such things herself. Also, a wife always does well to remind her husband of the trust established thanks to his rules. "We trust you, Jacob; don't let him bully you," Renée says, throwing Charlie a meaningful, yet pleading look.

"I'm not bullying," he protests, "I remember what it's like being a teenager."

"Not all boys are players like you, Mr. Swan," she tries to both reassure and tease simultaneously.

Charlie only makes a noise.

Looking up from his previous distraction, Jacob wonders, "A player, huh?"

"Don't get cute with me," Charlie warns and he averts his eyes again, but the twitch at the corner of his mouth gives the humor away.

"No, sir. Wouldn't dream of it."

Renée glances at Jacob with a mixture of surprise and approval on her face. She turns to her husband, wiggling her brows. "You better up that game of yours," she teases. Her eyes are amused.

Huh. "I don't play games, but I do play ball, and it's in my court, so-" Charlie turns the situation over in his head just once. It's not complicated, and he doesn't ask much.

"I say whatever happens outside this house, as long as it's on my daughter's terms and doesn't make DCS start sniffing around, I'm down with that." He clears his throat awkwardly. "Am I cool enough now, Mrs. Swan?"

They had talked it through already, but he bets she didn't see that one coming. It's all about compromise, and a simple man only asks for few things.

In this case, it's discretion and respect. For all parties involved.

Charlie knows though, as it so often goes with teens, that boundaries are made to be stretched, and rules to be broken. _That is why you aim them high and give them a wide berth._

Ultimately, trust is everything.

"Way cool."

**o*~oiOio~*o**


	2. Get Some

_Disclaimer__: Twilight and its characters belong to Stephenie Meyer._

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><p><strong>Outtake Two<strong>

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><p><strong>Scene:<strong> Wherein Nina leaves the cafeteria during detention, letting Bella know through a text message she needs a_ pee-pee; _Fish follows, and fun times ensue.

**Requested by:** Moi. (**Naranwien**)

**Warning: **Explicit content and coarse language.

Big, massive, super-huge thanks to **MeraNaamJoker** for writing this (with such incredible accuracy and perfection!). She's got Nina and Fish down pat, and I honestly couldn't've done this better justice myself. You are brilliant, bb. (That's right folks. This masterpiece is all on **Mera**, so be sweethearts and give praise where it's due. And yes, it's perfectly compliant with **Unspoken**. No OOC-ness whatsoever.)

_PS. Three paragraphs were missing, so if you received another alert, that's just me fixing the issue._

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><p><em><strong>Get Some<strong>_

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><p><em>Like a shotgun needs an outcome  I'm a prostitute / You're gonna get some. "Get Some," by Lykke Li (Beck Remix) _

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><p><strong>o*~oiOio~*o<strong>

Nina seriously couldn't believe this shit.

It wasn't enough that she had detention _after _the school year was over. (It was like serving a bonus sentence after your debt to society had been paid. Weren't there laws against that sort of thing?) At first she'd thought it might be okay, because at least Bella and, incidentally, Jake, would have it with her, so they could text and stuff. Just because Jake was _Bella's _sort-of brother didn't mean he was Nina's, and even though he'd never looked in her direction with more than mild amusement, Nina couldn't help but stare—_that _shit was fine. Now, though, Jake and Bella were clearly having some sort of inside-joke contest that Nina wasn't invited to compete in, and Bella wasn't liking SVM so that meant that Nina _still _wouldn't have anyone to talk to about them. Nina felt... pissy.

Then, just to add insult to injury, she looked up in time to catch Fish staring at her, a smirk pulling up one corner of his mouth. He should've had his picture next to the entry on "arrogance" in the dictionary.

Nina ignored the tiny flutter of response in her belly—fuck that shit, she wasn't such a whore that she had to want to hump everything with a cock—and mouthed _go fuck yourself, asshole _at him.  
>He made a kissy-face at her.<p>

Nina almost said, "No, seriously, fuck you," out loud, but at the last moment transformed it into a sort of throat-clearing noise. Dickhead. If it weren't for him acting like such a tool with Bella none of them would be in this stupid cafeteria now. Glancing to the side, she saw that Bella's attention had been caught by Fish's unrelenting stare. Fish grinned wide at Bella. In response, Bella gave him a death glare that by all rights should have made his skin peel off from sheer acid hate. Fish just shrugged a little, obviously amused. Nina had to admit, he kind of had a point. Bella pissed was cute, like a kitten mad at its tail for outrunning it all the time.

The shrug had drawn Nina's attention to Fish's shoulders. They were broad. And really muscular.

_Ugh. Ho. Get a grip._

She had to go get a drink of water or something. First texting _pee-pee _to Bella, she got up with a significant glance toward her friend's cell phone where it lay in her lap and wound her way to the front. After a brief word with the teacher—who looked no more thrilled to be enforcing the Code of Conduct than Nina was to be punished for violating it—she headed to the bathrooms in the hall outside the cafeteria's side door.

Nina didn't really have to pee, but she did it anyway just to have something to do, and then washed her hands as slowly as possible. At last, she could delay the inevitable no longer and walked out the door...

Where Fish stood, clearly waiting for her.

"What do you want, asshole?" she demanded. Experience had long since taught her that getting in the first hit during a confrontation, whether literal or figurative, meant she was halfway to winning. Her dad was a trucker and gone half the time, but when he was home he made sure Nina knew how to handle herself.

Fish, though, didn't seem a bit fazed. "What do you think I want, Nina?" he asked, sauntering up close.

Instinctively, Nina backed up into the door, and then caught herself. Straightening, she scowled. "I have no clue what assholes like you dream about. Mirrors to admire yourself in? Maybe a new kid to show up so you can make him feel like shit about himself?" She knew she should leave it that, but _of course _she could never make herself shut up when she should, so _of course _she had to add, "Some girl too stupid to keep her HazMat suit on when she's near you?"

Fish leaned over her, one arm on the door jamb. "You must've left yours at home. I have to say, I prefer the halter top." He reached out with his other hand and ran it just under the shirt's flared hem, drawing a line across her stomach.

Nina shoved his hand off of her with a scowl. "Back away before I scream rape, jerkoff." Oh, God, now she was turned on. _Slut. _What was it about cocky assholes that was so interesting?

Fish chuckled, but the teasing light in his eyes had changed to something else. Something predatory. "If you were smart, you'd scream it about Jake. He's the one who's dangerous."

Genuinely confused, Nina asked, "What the hell are you talking about? What's this thing you have about Jake being scary? It's bullshit. The guy's lived at the Swans' for years now and never hurt anybody."

Fish leaned in farther until his face hovered just inches to the right beside her own. "I know things about him. Things you can't see because you're too close."

For an instant, Nina wavered, but then she remembered who she was and who _he _was and firmed her chin, turning to give him a full-on glare. "You are so completely full of shit. I think you're jealous. Go on, Fish, admit it. You like Bella and you hate that she lives with someone who's as hot as Jake because it means she'll never look at you twice. Not that she would anyway, considering your personality disability."

He was staring at her mouth. "Listen. If I wanted Vestal Virgin Swan I could hit that anytime I wanted and she wouldn't know what happened till she woke up with a smile on her face the next morning. I prefer a girl who actually knows how to unzip someone else's jeans without getting his cock caught in the teeth."

It wasn't until Nina started getting dizzy that she realized she'd forgotten to breathe. God, God, God. That was so fucking hot she didn't even know how to respond. Taking a deep breath, she managed to quaver, "Good thing you usually stick with professionals, then," but her voice was so faint the comeback carried almost no sting.

Fish snorted. "Yeah, right. If anything, girls are offering to pay _me._"

_Ugh_. Arrogant prick. Nina shoved his shoulder. "Get out of my way."

A flash of anger crossed his face, and he grabbed her shoulders tightly. "You need to watch it, _chica._"

Nina's knees went weak in response. That scared her, so she snapped out, "You need to shove your attitude up your ass, once you move your head."

Oh shit. Oh God. His mouth was so close—

And next thing Nina knew, she was all over him like white on rice. Lips mashed so hard together her teeth ached, tongues dueling it out for supremacy, hands gripping and grabbing whatever they could reach. Fish was totally up for the challenge, digging his fingers into her ass to lift her up to his level so she could wrap her legs around his waist and concentrate on trying to devour his face. Her back slammed into the wall. It hurt a little, but the pain got all mixed up in the hot flow of arousal pouring from where their mouths pressed together and her boobs rubbed against his unexpectedly hard pecs. She moaned.

Fish removed one of his hands. Nina tightened her legs' grip on him so she didn't slide down. Dimly, she registered him fumbling for something in his jeans pocket below her thigh, but she was too busy marveling at how good he was at kissing to really pay attention. He staggered a few feet to the right. Some more fumbling, a click, and then they were inside a dark, close room. She heard the thunk of a deadbolt sliding home.

Nina drew back and put her feet down. "What the hell? Where are we?"

"Teacher's restroom. I've got a key." A click, and then a small lamp illuminated a side table, chair, and sink with two bathroom stalls adjoining the counter, on which rested a bowl of potpourri.

Nina decided she didn't want to waste time or effort demanding how he'd managed that. Instead, she grabbed the hem of his shirt. "Take this off."

Fish wrapped his fingers around her wrists and held her so tightly she nearly winced. "Who says you get to be in charge?" He reversed their positions so that her back was against the wall again, and pinned her wrists above her head with one hand.

Okay, that was fuckhot. Nina made sure she had control of her voice before answering. "I shouldn't have to."

"You _don't _have to." Fish bent to run his tongue along the plunging V-neck of Nina's halter top. Oh, hell. Nina let her head fall back against the wall and moaned. "You're so fucking hot, Nina. C'mon, babe. Lemme see." The words turned her on so much she could barely stand. Obediently, she ducked her head so he could pull the halter over and down. "Fuck," he breathed in response to the sight before him. "Sit down."

Nina let him back her into the chair, mostly because she was pretty certain it was the quickest route to getting his mouth on her again. Sure enough, once she sprawled on the narrow wooden seat, Fish knelt before her and, after this time grasping one wrist in each hand to hold her still, fastened his lips on her nipple. "Oh shit," she gasped, arching almost off the chair to shove herself into his kiss. The steady lap of his tongue sent warm waves of pleasure rippling to every point in her body, making even her palms and the soles of her feet tingle with delight. Not being able to really move just made it better. "Oh shit oh shit oh shit..."

Fish switched to the other side. Glancing down, she saw deep purple marks on the nipple he'd abandoned, but then he drew her wrists behind the chair back and held them both in one of his hands. Her shoulders ached a little in the new position. He used his free hand to caress and rub the side he wasn't sucking on, though, and that felt so damn amazing that Nina's eyes rolled back in her head.

This wasn't good. He had her panting and trembling and he didn't even have his own shirt off yet. Nina moaned again, demanding, "Why do you still have all your clothes on? Scared you won't measure up?"

He sucked hard enough to make her inhale sharply, and then bit her for good measure. She stomped the floor in involuntary response as he muttered, "Just don't want to scare you off."

Nina snorted. "Considering I found my mom's porn collection when I was nine, I doubt you've got anything that could even make me blink."

With a chuckle, Fish nipped and sucked his way up her chest and neck. "I knew you were a dirty girl." He pulled her earlobe between his teeth. "Fine," he whispered, then licked the shell of her ear. "You can see for yourself."

Releasing her wrists, he stood and removed his shirt, letting it fall in a careless heap on the floor, and then unzipped his jeans, pulling down his boxer briefs to reveal—

"Holy motherfucking shit on a goddamn stick!" Nina half-screamed. "How do you even fucking _walk_?" _Idiot. Like he needed any more excuses to be in love with himself._

"Carefully." Yup. Completely in love with himself.

In Nina's experience, there was only one thing guaranteed to put an arrogant asshole in his place. "I need a closer look." She grabbed his belt loops and yanked him closer. Fuck, that thing really was a monster. Not the longest she'd ever seen—in pictures—but definitely the biggest circumference. That would make for a hell of a word problem in geometry. Shit, if they had those sort of questions she would've paid a lot more attention. Well, this would be a good test run. If it didn't fit in her mouth, it wasn't even going near her lady bits. Without giving him any warning, she opened her lips wide and sucked him all the way down into her throat.

"Fuck!" he exclaimed on an exhale, then, as she blew her way back up, "Fuck. Fuck. Holy fucking—Nina, babe—oooohhhh fuuuuuuck..."

He was too big to smile smugly around, but Nina was pretty damn pleased with herself as she sucked him deep and swallowed around him. Hell, yeah. Regularly giving blow jobs since she was thirteen was paying off. She pulsed her tongue along the underside of his cock as she slid back up and down again, wrapping her hand around what she couldn't fit in and stroking in a twisting motion. He slammed his palm against the wall over her head, cursing helplessly. She lifted her other hand to stroke his balls and upper thighs.

Just as she got a good rhythm going, though, Fish grabbed her hair and angled her face up so that she had to set him free with a "pop." "Don't you want to finish with me?" he demanded with a little shake.

Nina felt a corresponding gush of wetness dampen her panties at his words. "Well, now that you mention it, it'd make for a nice change." Sticking with high school boys due to Arizona's draconian statutory laws had some disadvantages, and she'd had to rely on her vibrator for a few months now.

"Up," Fish ordered, and, grabbing her upper arm, pulled her to her feet. "Take those off, now." He indicated her tiny white shorts with a wave of his hand.

Nina reached down to unbutton and unzip them, then pushed them down to her feet along with her panties. Her top fell down in a puddle on top of the other clothes when she bent over. Now all she had on were her high-heeled sandals, and he was still almost completely clothed. Before she could get mad over the disparity, though, he yanked her into his arms again, kissing her so hard she couldn't think about anything else but his mouth. Oh God. He was such an _asshole. _She _hated _that he was so good at this. Why couldn't he be mushy-lipped and slobbery with a pencil dick?

She reached between them to caress his erection, which was currently trying to punch a hole in her stomach, and he snatched her hands away. "Uh-uh." Without missing a beat, he spun her around and bent her over the counter. When she pressed her thighs together, he smacked her ass and ordered, "Wider."

Nina groaned, "Fucking prick," but she complied, digging her fingers into the edge of the sink. "If you think you're getting in the backdoor with that beast and no lube, you need a reality check."

"I usually save that for the second date," Fish replied, bending over her to suck and lick her neck. One brawny arm interposed itself between the corner of the counter and her stomach, protecting her from the sharp edge, and his free hand slipped down her back and in between her thighs, where she was pretty sure she was dripping. A wide finger slipped inside her easily. Nina groaned and lifted her ass, rubbing into his front as he plunged another finger deep, not particularly gently. She wanted to rub _herself _in front too, but she had a feeling he'd object, so she waited to see if he'd take care of it. Instead, a third finger joined the first two, stretching her until she whined wordlessly with the heavy weight of _want _making her lungs struggle to drag in air.

"Good girl," he soothed. Nina whimpered at the words, feeling herself grow impossibly more soaked in response. "Come here, babe, and I'll make you feel good."

Tottering on her heels, Nina followed the direction of his touch and leaned against the wall, blinking woozily and pushing against her clit as Fish drew his wallet out of his back pocket. He pulled a condom out and opened it, then rolled it on with one hand, eyes fixed on the motion of her fingers as they circled against her most sensitive spot.

"Come here," he said again, and lifted her so that she was pinned between him and the wall once more. Fish drew one of her legs around his waist and kissed her, slow, deep strokes of his tongue, as he eased inside her the tiniest bit.

"Oh shit," Nina gasped against his mouth. For the first time in her life she actually was struck by the stereotypical virgin's fear that it wouldn't fit. The nerves made her impatient. "Come _on_," she groaned, trying to angle her hips so he would go deeper.

"If I go any faster, I'll hurt you," he panted, holding absolutely motionless. Only the slightest tremor in his arms gave away the effort he expended to remain so.

Nina opened her eyes, and, sure enough, he was smirking. She thought about saying _fuck you, _but since she practically was already it seemed redundant.

Moving so gradually she barely noticed the stretch, Fish slid farther and farther up until at last he was all the way in. He didn't move again for a moment while Nina relaxed around him. At last, though, he started to thrust, and then Nina lost it. She had never been so full, ever, and the sensation made her crazy with need. She clawed at his chest with her nails, begging, "Please, please, fuck me, fuck me harder," while his fingertips dug into her skin and sweat poured down both their chests until they were slick with it.

Fish was in his own world, eyes glazed over with lust as he pounded into her, deep voice muttering, "That's right, babe, give it to me, give it to me now_, _I knew you liked it like this, nasty girl; you love getting fucked against a wall, don't you?"

Nina guessed she did, because she'd never come just from having a guy's cock inside her, but she could feel herself trembling on the edge of something so powerful it almost scared her. She tumbled over that cliff and came so hard it nearly hurt, clenching around his massive length in spasms that seemed endless as she cried and pleaded for him to never, ever stop, and then he drew up her other leg and buried himself _so deep_ and growled obscenities laced with her name as he pulsated through his own orgasm.

While they clung to each other, wheezing, the air conditioning kicked on. A freezing cold draft wafted down from the ceiling vent and sent shivers through Nina's spine, brushing against the sweat dewing her back.

Fish broke the silence. "Fuck."

Yeah, that just about covered it.

Still moving with care, he withdrew from her, holding the base of the condom against himself. Nina put her feet down on the floor, and waited until she was certain her knees would hold her up before gingerly bending to pick up her clothes. When she had, on the third try, pulled the neck of her top over her head again, she turned to see that Fish was fully dressed and watching her with an unreadable expression.

_He was inside me. Inside me._

Nina wanted to bawl, or throw up, or beg him to do it again. Instead, she firmed her chin and told him, "I'm going out first. Wait for a couple minutes before you come back in there."

He said nothing, simply nodding.

Nina tried to smooth her hair as she went, but she was pretty sure it was a lost cause. She started making her way through the tables back to her seat. Jake caught sight of her before Bella. She saw appalled comprehension flash through his eyes, and then he glanced at Bella. Bella swiveled to look over her shoulder. Her eyebrows scrunched up. Oh shit. She was staring right at Nina's mouth.

Nina drew even with her friend's shoulder, bent just long enough to whisper, "_Don't _ask," and then proceeded as quickly as she could to her seat.

She could feel Bella's eyes on her, though. She was _definitely _going to ask. Shit.

**o*~oiOio~*o**


	3. Can't Make You Love Me

_Disclaimer__: Twilight and its characters belong to Stephenie Meyer._

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><p><strong>Outtake Three<strong>

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><p><strong>Scene:<strong> (A few weeks _before_ the start of **Unspoken**.) Wherein Hannah is tired of vying for Jake's attention, means to make him forget any other girl's existence, but ends up nearly forgetting her own name instead.

**Requested by:** Greedy!Nara.

Yep. **MeraNaamJoker** has done it again: she wrote yet another missing scene that I've been dying to have brought to life but didn't have the balls to write. If I ever, for one reason or another, can't write, like, _ever_ again, I will be handing **Unspoken** over to her for completion. She knows and loves these characters as well and as much as I do, and once more she has done an absolutely _brilliant_ job. (This is One-Hundred-Percent compliant with the main story, no OOC-ness to speak of.)

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><p><em><strong>Can't Make You Love Me<strong>_

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><p><em>I'll close my eyes, then I won't see  The love you don't feel when you're holding me. / "Can't Make You Love Me," by Bonnie Raitt_

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><p><strong>o~*oiOio*~o<strong>

Hannah sits on the deck next to Jake and tries to pretend she doesn't notice his attention wandering away from her. She's wearing the shortest shorts she owns, and she knows her legs go for miles, so by all rights he should be appreciating the view directly to his left. Instead, Jake's looking directly to his right.

That's where Bella Swan stands.

She's completely oblivious, of course. You'd think she's never even noticed she lives with the hottest guy in her grade, or that he sleeps right across the hall from her. Nope, Simple Swan just keeps swimming like Dory, playing with the little kids (honestly, she's so immature the five-year-old's practically in her peer group), helping her dad with the grill, and in general acting like a throwback to _Little House on the Prairie_, only in the desert instead.

So why can't Jake stop staring at her?

Oh, he tries to hide it. He deliberately keeps his head turned away and his hand clasped in Hannah's, and whenever Hannah leans in for a kiss his mouth is ready and willing to provide one. Jake _loves _to touch, and he especially loves to touch _her. _Hannah knows that as well as she knows her name, as well as she knows the sound of her name when he breathes it into her shoulder as he moves inside her. Hannah is an expert in all things Jacob, which is why she can't lie to herself anymore about the way his eyes keep straying to his _foster sister's _face. She knows that look. Once upon a time she thought she was the only recipient of that look.

Maybe she can be again. Ignoring the little voice that sounds a lot like her mother, warning her that her relationship with Jake is about to become illegal on the day Hannah turns eighteen (if she's having sex with him, about which her mom said: "you'd better not be"), she grasps her boyfriend's hand a little more tightly and tugs, rising to her bare feet. "Hey. C'mere. I've got something I want to show you." Her mom can just deal with it. College boys next year or no, Hannah loves Jacob, and she isn't letting him go without a fight.

He isn't really paying attention, still, and Hannah knows why. Even as he slowly gets up, she can see he's watching Bella, who's decided to get into the wading pool fully clothed and splash around with the younger kids. _Dork, _Hannah thinks, and almost decides there's nothing to worry about there. Looking up into Jacob's eyes, though, she surprises a flare of longing, and that scares her. So she pulls a little more insistently. "Come _on, _Jake. Let's go inside for a minute?"

Obediently, he follows her through the sliding glass doors and to his bedroom. Clearly his thoughts remain elsewhere, because he doesn't notice or object to their route until she closes the door behind them. The click of the lock as she turns it seems to wake him up. "Han? What're you doing?"

_Finally _he's looking at her and actually _seeing _her. About time. "Showing you something." With a mischievous smile, Hannah pulls her crop top - it looks more like a bikini top, but it said _crop top _on the Urban Outfitters tag so that's what she relayed to her mom - over her head and drops it to the floor. She's got a strapless bra on underneath, so she peels that off too. "Do you like it?"

Jacob's eyes have gone wide with nervous arousal. "Um, yeah, you know I do, Han, but... uh, you know the rules. No sex in the house and..." He trails off weakly when Hannah pushes his shirt up and presses her bare chest to the skin she exposes. "Shit, honey." Almost automatically, his hands slide up her back and press her closer.

It's been two weeks since they got the chance to do _anything_ except kiss. That's one of the ways she knows there's something wrong. A sixteen-year-old boy who's less than determined to have sex with his girlfriend is either gay or losing interest, and Hannah's pretty damn sure Jacob's not gay. "Feels good, right?" she whispers, and turns her face to kiss his chest.

He pulls his shirt off and then embraces her again. "Yeah, you do. But we should still go out again. Renee and Charlie are way too good at busting in at the wrong moment."

"They're really busy." Hannah's almost positive she should be the one arguing against sex while he comes up with ridiculous justifications for going ahead, and that pisses her off. "Of course, if you'd rather wait _another _two weeks before you get to do this again then I guess that's fine."

"No, no, no," he hastens to contradict. She relaxes against him, reassured by the denial. His hands are all over her now and that's even more reassuring.

"Jake." She tilts her head back to look at him, sliding her arms around his neck. "You want me, right?"

He's got his palms on her boobs and he's watching them rub and smooth across the sensitive peaks. "Yeah, honey. I want you."

_Only me? _she wants to ask, but at the last second restrains herself. "Good." She slowly, slowly sinks down to her knees, kissing a path down his chest and stomach as she goes. Let's see Simple Swan do _this. _By the time Hannah's done he'll have forgotten any other girl exists besides her.

Jacob pants a little, watching her as she unbuttons his shorts and unzips them. _Just like Pavlov's dog, _she thinks with a little glee—not that Jake's a dog. She's trained him well, though (he never told her but she thinks he was a virgin before her), and he knows exactly what happens now. Pulling away his boxers, Hannah grasps his already-hard length and rubs her cheek against it. Jacob catches his breath, caressing her hair back to see her face. "Come on, honey. Don't be mean. We don't have much time."

Eh, he's got a point. With a mental shrug, Hannah licks the underside of his erection a couple of times, just to hear him give that strangled groan she loves. _So _hot. He's got his fingers in her hair, running through the length of it over and over again while she sucks him in deep. "_Shit,_" he hisses when she eases back. "Hannah, honey..."

"I don't know, let me check!" Bella's voice carols from the living room, and they both freeze.

_The door's locked, _Hannah reminds herself. And that means she should just keep moving, right? The threat of discovery turns her on even more. She can barely keep from moaning as she runs her tongue around him like an ice cream cone. She glances up at Jacob to see if he shares her amusement—c'mon, her going down on him while everyone else is chowing down on hot dogs is pretty funny—

He's staring in the direction of the living room. And, she realizes, his hand on her head is moving mechanically, the way her mom pets her dog while she watches TV. He's completely distracted. With his dick in her mouth.

Hannah's not sure what to do, though _bite down _is the option that appeals most at this particular juncture. (She wouldn't, though. She loves him even when he's an asshole.) She hears Bella's shuffly footsteps making their way down the hall. They pause outside Jacob's door. Hannah releases him, absentmindedly kissing the tip while she holds her breath. Looking up, she sees he's not breathing either.

Bella starts back toward the living room. After a moment, Hannah hears her say, "I think Hannah needed to make a phone call or something. I can hear her talking."

Huh. Maybe she's not so clueless after all.

With the immediate threat of exposure gone, Hannah's free to concentrate on her irritation. "Jacob, what the hell?" she demands in an undertone. "Should I just go?"

_That _gets him to actually make eye contact. "What? Why?"

_Why. _Really? Boys are so... Ugh. Hannah rocks back to sit on her heels. "Uh, wow, I don't know, maybe because you're apparently lost in thought while your girlfriend goes down on you? Possibly?"

Jacob at least has the decency to flush as she gets up. "Han—"

If he apologizes, she'll cry, so she cuts him off. "Just don't, Jake, okay? I get it. You're not into me right now. It's fine."

He gapes. "What? No. That's not—What?"

The problem is, she can't tell if he's shocked because she's so far off, or because she figured something out, and that sends a rush of tears to sting her eyes. _Shit. _She spins around, trying to make the movement appear to be about picking up her shirt and not hiding her face.

"Hannah." Jake's hands are on her arms, and then he turns her so he can hug her again. "Don't go. Please? I want you to stay."

Hannah doesn't _want _to go, but she's got _some _pride, so she stands unyielding in his grasp. "Why? So you can ignore me some more?" _So you can stare at Bella some more? _she wants to add, but she can't say it, because it would mean she's put a name to the problem, or its cause anyway, and that might be the kiss of death. "No thanks."

"No," he says, soft-voiced. "No." And, cradling her face in both hands, he lowers his mouth to hers.

_Ooh. _Hannah closes her eyes and kisses him back. _This. _This is what she loves about Jacob, the hesitant tenderness buried under the rough exterior. It only shows when they're having sex, but it's what made her hand her heart over even though he wasn't asking. With a sigh, she loops her arms around his neck and opens up, letting his tongue curve across hers. _Idiot. _She knows she's being stupid, but she can't help herself around him, especially when he slides his hands down her sides to her hips, pulling her close.

Jacob pulls away just enough to rest his forehead against hers. "Hannah, honey. Don't go." His fingers are at her shorts button, sliding it free from its closure. While he draws her zipper down, he whispers, "Stay here with me." Hannah wavers, but when his hand slips inside her underwear to find her hot and wet with wanting him, he makes that groaning noise again and oh, God. She's completely screwed. "Feels so good, honey. Come here." He backs her around to sit on his bed and pulls what's left of her clothing down to her ankles, kneeling between her legs. "Lie back?"

Obediently, Hannah lies down and stares at the ceiling, trembling with anticipation. She knows what he's about to do and it's the best thing, her _favorite _thing. Sure enough, his hands move to where she's aching with wanting him and his thumbs sweep down to part the folds and oh. Ooohh. _Ooooohhh_. Hot lips parted over her most intimate places, gently sucking, tongue flicking over the right spot... Hannah stuffs the heel of her hand into her mouth to keep from making too much noise, but she can't stop the smothered moans that clog her throat. She lifts her hips over and over against the pressure from his mouth, powerless against the overwhelming pleasure pouring from where he's kissing. It builds and builds until the tension in her belly's so intense and she's begging even though he can't hear the words and finally he slides one finger inside her—no, two—and moves them, curving up just the way she taught him—

Hannah bites her palm, hard, as the convulsions overtake her. Tears overflow from the corners of her eyes even while she's shaking and crying out. He's being so sweet, but she knows—she _knows—_he's trying to distract her. Maybe distract himself, too. Turning her head to the side, pressing it to his comforter, she lets the teardrops trickle down from between her closed eyelids as he kisses her a couple more times down there, gently, and then kisses his way up her stomach to her breasts. With a deep exhalation, he rests his head on her chest between them.

A choked sob escapes her before she can smother it. It's so stupid. _She's _so stupid. She should just be like a boy, take the sex and run, and be glad he's not interested in anything long-term. The realization of that fact, often suppressed and never before acknowledged, leads to another sob, and another, and suddenly she's crying, throwing her hands over her face to hide it even though she's _naked _and vulnerable beneath him and her face is the thing she should be worrying about the least.

"Hannah?" Jacob sounds worried. He crawls up onto the bed beside her and pulls her into his arms. "What's the matter, honey? Did I do something wrong?"

_You didn't love me the way I love you. _Hannah's not going to humiliate herself any worse than she already has today, though, so she controls herself and slides her leg over his hip, wordlessly reaching below them to guide his length inside her. He hesitates, but he's a boy and she's pushing him where he wants to be and there's no way he'll stop once he's there. Sure enough, once he's buried as deep as he can go in this position, he stops asking questions. He rolls her onto her back, pressing his face to the curve of her neck, and begins to thrust.

"Han," he sighs against her shoulder, just the way he always does. Now she recognizes it for what it is, though: he's saying her name deliberately, to make sure he doesn't slip and say... someone else's.

Hannah wraps her legs and arms around him anyway.

Jacob makes it last, maybe hoping she'll come again the way she does sometimes, but her whole chest is aching and orgasms aren't really on her mind at the moment. When he can't hold out anymore and spills himself inside her, groaning wordlessly, she digs her fingernails into her palms to distract herself from the loneliness of the moment.

They both know they've taken too long. Jacob doesn't linger inside her, and she wouldn't want him to anyway. After she's cleaned up and dressed, she opens the door and tells him, "I'll see you later."

Clearly, he has no idea what's going on. Equally clearly, he's afraid to ask. "Okay. I'll call you."

Hannah laughs bitterly. "Sure. Whenever you get around to it."

He doesn't return her unkindness with any of his own, just pulls her into another embrace, kissing the top of her head. "Probably tonight." It makes her feel like shit.

Once she's in her car, she can't hold back. She sobs against the steering wheel until her eyes burn and her throat closes and her temples ache. When she can finally see well enough to drive, she turns the key in the ignition with a shaking hand and pulls away from the curb.

"College boys," she reminds herself, rubbing her eyes with the heel of her hand. "He's too young anyway. He's just a kid. It wouldn't have lasted. It's better if it ends when school gets out. Just... hang in there for a few more weeks."

She doesn't sound very convincing.

"College boys are better," she tells herself firmly. She'll just keep repeating it till she believes it.

**o~*oiOio*~o**


End file.
